an Angel did not need to fall for their wings to burn. They would just wake up one day and feel agony as what defines them starts to destroy them, as their halo suddenly sets their wings aflame, a holy fire that no substance can put out, and the Angel could only watch as the flame burned away their only hope, their only joy.
The flame scorches their wings, taking away their flight
the fire engulfs their body, taking away their light
the Angel looks to the sky, and screams a sorrowful Hallelujah, demanding for God to tell them what they did wrong, when in truth they had done nothing wrong.
They were not behind the gates when the battle was over, and for that, they were forced to burn.
Holy. Holy. Holy.
The last words of beings that were not meant to die
